


I Don't Give Em An Inch, I Give Em Both Fists

by killajokejosie



Category: Peaky Blinders (TV)
Genre: Arthur is an ass as usual, Damaged, Depression, Drug Use, Eventual Fluff, Eventual Romance, F/M, FTM, Follows at least first episode close, Guns, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, M/M, Not sure where this will wind up, Past Relationship(s), Peaky Blinders gang, Polly reads him like a book, Razors, Rough Sex, Season/Series 01, Sexual Content, Sexual Violence, Surprises, Tags May Change, Tommy has a lot of secrets, Trans, angry, as close to that as can get during the time period, at least to start
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-27
Updated: 2017-01-16
Packaged: 2018-07-18 12:36:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 17,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7315480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/killajokejosie/pseuds/killajokejosie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Shelby family is full of secrets, but none so big as the one revolving around Tommy. Few outside of the family know the truth, and those that do, often don't get the chance to ask why. Now, with the Chief Inspector sniffing around not only is the biggest Shelby family secret at risk, but the business of the Peaky Blinders, as well.</p><p>Follows the first episode almost entirely, will go off from there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Thomasin

**Author's Note:**

> A big change, but I couldn't get the idea out of my head...

Times were changing. 

Things that had previously been in control, were a whirlwind of madness. More than that. It was really a miracle that the Shelby family had made it as long as they had, the crown family of the Peaky Blinders. 

And, not a single one of the eldest sons died at war. They had returned in one piece, body wise anyways. It was time for things to return to the way they were. 

But, they couldn't.

Times were changing.

***

There was no abandon all hope.

"What do you think? It works?" Tommy asked his aunt, his tone of voice showing every fragment of emotion he had all at once. A rarity from someone who was so typically without it. 

Regardless, he still meant business. He was a Peaky Blinder, and a bookmaker, of course.

She looked her nephew up and down. She figured it had been one thing to do this before the war, and outside the family, but it was another thing entirely to do so to the family. 

"You are going to ruin them, wish you wouldn't do such a thing. What are you going to do if you have children one day?" The older woman asked.

"That is not going to be a problem, Aunt Pol, believe me,"

She sighed. "Please, don't take things too far while you are out, not yet. The last thing we need is for all of this to come out into the light of day."

"I made it through the war, didn't I? Now, I've got work to do."

***

Tommy had taken a black horse when he left. He returned home on the same damn black horse. 

The streets were busy, as usual. Children and workers were going about their normal days. Nothing had changed. They paid no mind to the Shelby man riding the horse. 

No one would mess with him today. No one would mess with him, period. Those that did not fear him, worked for him and his family. People around Birmingham, they knew better. 

"...And Abraham made his home in a cave, but it was good because god resided there with him. You see children, god does not care if you live in a slum or a mansion..." Tommy heard the black street preacher announcing loudly to anyone who would listen as he walked past, spreading the good word.

The preacher, known to him as Jimmy Jesus, glanced up at him, giving him a slight nod in greeting. 

Tommy continued forward, already certain that he was going to be late. 

"Good morning, Mr. Shelby," A policeman walking toward him with a nervous expression greeted him. 

Even those who knew Tommy well found the very sight of him intimidating. He preferred it that way. 

***

Charlie Strong's yard had a little bit of everything in it. Tommy arrived and got off of the horse, hoping to find the man himself. Charlie had known him his entire life. There was a strong need to continue their relationship from a business standpoint.

The man noticed him standing right outside the gate. He quickly let him in with a smirk on his face. 

He turned back towards the yard, where a fire was lit. "Curly? Get here."

A bald man in a dark suit joined them.

"Curly, come tell this horse he needs to get on a boat and stand still," 

The bald man took the horse, whispering softly to it as he lead it toward the canal.

Charlie smiled, turning his full attention back to Tommy. "I heard there's been some mumbo jumbo in the Garrison with a Chinese girl. What's afoot, Tommy?"

The corners of Tommy's mouth turned up slightly at the sound of those words. He lit a cigarette, offering one to the gypsy man in front of him. "Its a game called turning rust into gold,"

Charlie leaned in close. "So you still have the stomach for games?"

Tommy shrugged it off. "Business as usual. Like we agreed." He stared directly into the man's eyes. "Like we agreed."

"I'm finding sleep hard to come by..." Charlie said after the silence became too drawn out for him to handle. 

"Take less water with your rum,"

"Tommy, what if word gets around that it was you?"

"There'll be no word from your lips, Uncle Charlie," Tommy smirked again, ever so wicked. "And Curly's the only other one who knows,"

"I told him the whole thing was a dream so that's what he believes..." Charlie muttered, dropping his cigarette into the fire. "...bloody nightmare more like,"

"I'm dealing with it," 

"I hope so, you know what happens when they take you to jail, right?"

Tommy didn't respond, turning to leave almost as soon as he had came.

***

Tommy finally made it back home, without a moment to spare. He quickly strode through the house and into the parlor, no sign of anyone. 

The youngest of the Shelby siblings was sitting in the kitchen. Tommy noticed out of the corner of his eye that the young boy was smoking, and trying to hide it, something he would have to mention to the others later. 

"Arthur's mad as hell," The boy told him.

"What does a ten year old boy know about hell?"

"I'm eleven Sunday,"

Tommy shook his head at the boy. He turned to open the pantry, pushing back a black curtain. He looked back at his youngest brother, Finn, one last time. He had held a special place in his heart, the only Shelby who referred to him as Tommy all of the time.

He walked into the betting shop. The entire complex was bustling with added activity. He had a feeling he knew what all of the commotion was about. 

His brother John was standing in front of the blackboard as he walked past, writing down information in white chalk, holding a ledger in his other hand. "Tommy, will you just look at this board? Will you just look."

The final Shelby brother, the eldest, made himself known, angry and red faced as he poked his head out of his office. Arthur was all brawn and bad behavior, a constant threat to the business, and constantly on Tommy's radar, despite being his sibling. 

"Tommy! Get in here!" Arthur shouted before slamming the door, apparently decided to allow Tommy his full safety another day in front of all of these strangers. 

***

Arthur was counting coins when Tommy finally joined him. He mumbled something under his breath, barely acknowledging the fact that his younger brother had entered the office.

He looked up at Tommy, searching for a weakness in those crystal blue eyes. There wasn't a single one.

"You was seen doing the powder trick down at the Garrison court,"

Tommy sighed, leaning his back against the office door. "Times are hard. People need a reason to lay a bet."

Arthur huffed. "There was a Chinese,"

"The washer women say she's a witch. It helps them believe."

"We don't mess with Chinese,"

"Look at the board..." Tommy began.

Arthur cut him off, slamming a fist onto his desk. "Chines have cutters of their own, Tommy. We do not need them find out that...finding out that we have been allowing..."

"We agreed. I'm taking charge of drumming up new money."

Arthur furrowed his heavy brow. "When did we agree that?"

Tommy simply glanced at the bottle of rum, sitting half empty on Arthur's desk. Somehow, that was enough of an answer.

"Alright, but what if Monaghan Boy wins?"

Tommy smiled. Still not saying a word. He had it under control.

"You fixing races now, Tommy!?" Arthur shouted, both fists slamming into the desk this time as he rose to his feet. "You have permission from Billy Kimber to be fixing races?"

There was only so much that Tommy was willing to take from Arthur, and they were fast approaching that limit. Arthur ensure it by coming around the side of the desk, poking a hard finger into Tommy's tightly bound chest.

"What's got into you, Tommy? You think we can take on the Chinese and Billy Kimber? You are risking more than just your name, here. Billy has an army..."

Tommy pushed his brother away from him, just enough. "I think, Arthur. That's what I do. I think."

"Tommy..."

The younger Shelby glanced at the bottle of rum again. "So that you don't have to," He muttered before turning and heading out the door.

Arthur busted out of his office behind Tommy, who was quickly across the room. "Tommy! Tommy, there's some news from Belfast...Tommy! I'm calling a family council tonight at eight o clock. This time you better be there, Tommy! You hear me!? There's trouble coming!" 


	2. I've Been Around

The pub was just as alive with bets and other business at the betting shop. The patrons were especially rowdy, almost too loud for anyone to be able to think for themselves. Not that thinking was common in the pub.

The second that Tommy walked in, everyone went dead silent. He tried not to wonder what it would be like to enter dressed like Ada did, forced to, and what a hell on earth that would be. He appreciated his power. 

He approached the bar, lighting a cigarette while the land lord of the pub opened him a bottle of stout.

"On the house, Mr. Shelby,"

Tommy didn't listen, putting coins on the bar regardless. He didn't feel like someone that shouldn't have been paying. Especially with all of the nonsense around him and the pain pounding his lower abdomen, dulling and sharpening whenever it pleased.

Another man approached the bar, right beside him. "I'll take a mild," He said, pushing the coins that Tommy had laid out deliberately, using them to pay.

Tommy took a drag of his cigarette, choosing not to say a word on the matter, even as the man was handed his pint. 

"Cheers, Thomas. Good health to you." The man said to him, taking a sip of his beer before leaning in close. "Is it not enough that everybody's scared to death of you these days, Tommy? You have to make fools of them, as well? People who believe in witches spending money they don't have on a horse that can't win. You have fun playing with their ignorance."

Tommy looked back at the man's group of friends, or at least the people that he came in with that were near the door. There was a good chance that they thought the man was a dead man.

"When the revolution comes you can make me the minister of information,"

The man picked up Tommy's hat, examining the peak. His fingers found the razor blades sewn in, a quick, lethal weapon worn atop a head. He didn't want to think about what it had managed in the past. "The crown of a prince. Soon to be king, I'd bet."

"You don't bet, Freddie,"

"No, but these past few days I've been speculating,"

Tommy ordered another bottle. The pain in his back seeming just a little bit stronger with every passing hour. It didn't help that the man to his side was being fantastically annoying, but he really always was. "About what?"

"One of my union comrades has a sister who works in the telegraph office at the BSA factory. She says in the past week there's been messages coming from London to the brass. From Winston Churchill himself. Something about a robbery. A robbery of national significance. It said. Underlined. Twice." He replied, wanting the words to cause some sort of rise of emotion in the other man. "Oh, and she found something that'll make you laugh. She found a list of names left on the telegraph machine. And, on the list was your name and my name, together. Now, what kind of list would have the name of a communist and the name of a bookmaker side by side?"

Tommy half smiled. Truth be told, there could have been several reasons, but he was not about to bring up most of them in a public setting.

"Perhaps, it's a list of men who give false hope to the poor?"

Freddie scoffed, at the statement, perhaps the whole thing, perhaps the word men. 

"The only real difference between me and you, Freddie, is that sometimes my horses stand a chance at winning."

Freddie grabbed the crotch of Tommy's slacks, just out of view of the other patrons. The look of disgust on his face from Tommy's words, however, was not. "You know, there are days when I hear about the cuttings and beatings that I wish I'd let you take that bullet in France."

Tommy laughed. "There are nights when I wish you had,"

Freddie let go of Tommy, all business again. "So, you don't know anything about a robbery that would trouble Mr. Churchill?"

"I prefer to drink alone, Freddie,"

Freddie opened his mouth to speak, right before catching the figure of a man walking around the outside of the pub. "Ah, shit,"

"Ah, not again," The landlord grumbled. "Take cover! It's Danny Whizzbang!"

The short, sturdy man known as Danny entered, causing everyone to react. Angry, he picked up a chair, hurling it across the pub.

Tommy and Freddie quickly put down their drinks, silently agreeing to work together. They each took a side, attempting to restrain the man before he caused any major damage.

Through the kicking and flailing, Tommy fell directly on top of the man, suddenly very glad that he had bound tighter that morning. "Danny, you're home. You're home. We're all home in England."

Danny grumbled. "Had to go bang, had to go bang, had to go bang."

"You're not an artillery shell, Danny, you're a man," Tommy told the man underneath him as he continued to struggle. "You're not a Whizzbang. You're a human being. Now get yourself together for Christ's sake."

Danny took a deep breath, really looking into Tommy's hypnotizing blues. "Ah hell, did I do it again?"

Tommy moved off of the man, dusting off his clothes. "Yeah, you did it again, Danny. Got to stop doing this, man."

Freddie held out his hand to help Danny to his feet. "Danny, next time you feel like you're about to go bang, go down to Aston. The Garrison is too dangerous a place to break the rules."

"Ah shit, am I in the Garrison Tavern? Oh god, Ms...ter Shelby, I'm sorry..."

Tommy took a swig of his beer. "Go home to your wife, Danny. Try to get all that smoke and mud out of your head." He told him, ignoring the almost slip up. Not many knew, but those that did typically understood that they were not to open their mouths on the subject. 

Danny bowed his head. "Yes, Mr. Shelby, I'm sorry, Mr. Shelby,"

Danny quickly hurried out of the pub, leaving a strange silence in his wake.

"Mr. Shelby, you have to do something about him," The landlord said.

"Damn right, Harry. You pay the Peaky Blinders a lot of money for protection."

Tommy was gritting his teeth, giving Freddie more room to run his mouth.

"You're the law around here now, Tommy, aren't you? Why don't you put a bullet in Danny Whizzbang's head? Like they do with mad horses. Maybe you'll have to put a bullet in my head someday, too?"

Tommy snarled. He grabbed his cap, angling it on his head before heading to the door. "Bring the bill to the Peaky Blinders. We'll take care of it."

***

Everyone was sitting around the over packed table. The family waited for Arthur to begin speaking, all wanting to know what this damn meeting was all about.

Arthur was drunk, as per usual, swigging from his flask before switching to beer. "I called this meeting because I got some news. From Ireland. Nipper and Henry got back from Belfast last night. They were buying a stallion to cover their mares. They were in a pub in Shankhill Road yesterday and there was a copper handing out these..."

The elder Shelby placed a flyer on the table. John quickly grabbed it, reading over it before passing it on.

"If you're over five feet and can fight, come to Birmingham," He quoted.

"It seems that they're recruiting Protestant Irishmen to come over here as specials." Arthur explained.

"To do what?" Ada, the second youngest Shelby, asked.

Tommy grabbed the flyer, glancing it over. "To clean up the city," He tells the group, standing up. "He's a Chief Inspector. The last four years he's been clearing the IRA out of Belfast..."

Arthur cut him off. "How do you know so bloody much?"

"because I asked the coppers on our payroll,"

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I'm telling you,"

Polly locked eyes with Tommy. He was a walking book of secrets, making her suspicions instantly grow. "So, why are they sending him to Birmingham?"

Absolute silence followed. All attention was directed back to Arthur, who only took a swig of his flask, the perfect opportunity for Tommy to step up. 

"There have been a lot of strikes at the Austen works and the BSA factory, lately. Papers are talking about sedition. Revolution. I reckon it's communists he's after." Tommy explained, taking control. 

"So, this copper will leave us alone, right?" Polly asked, staring at Tommy once more.

"There are Irishmen in Green lanes who left Belfast to get away from him. They say Catholic men who crossed him used to disappear at night."

John stood to speak. "Yeah, but we ain't IRA. We bloody fought for the king. Anyways, we're Peaky Blinders. We're not scared of coppers. If they come for us, we'll cut them a smile each."

Tommy crumpled the flyer up into a ball, tossing it into the fire. "We're just going to have to be more careful. That's all. So Arthur, is that it?"

Arthur nodded. 

"This family does everything open. You have nothing more to say, Tommy?" Polly pressed on. 

"Nothing that's women's business..."

Polly raised her hand. "This whole bloody enterprise was 'women's business' while the boys were away at war. What's changed?"

"We came back."

"Ta! Not Women's business. Isn't that a bit funny coming from your mouth." Polly grumbled under her breath.


	3. Yesterday's Problems

Tommy arrived at the church where Polly had requested him. He quickly approached the pew where she was sitting, ultimately deciding it was best to sit down beside her. 

"I have ten minutes. What do you want?"

"An explanation," She replied firmly.

"An explanation of what?"

"Of what's so secret," She paused. "I've always been able to tell..."

"Tell what?" Tommy interrupted.

"When you're hiding something. People round here talk. Some of them work at the BSA. I've been talking to wives of factory hands. Detectives have been asking questions in the proofing shops. Nothing happens at the factory without you knowing about it."

"Pol..."

"With who you are, and I mean who you really are, not just this guise that you wear, there needs to be more precaution then just being careful. So, speak. God and Aunt Polly are listening."

"It was meant to be routine. I had a buyer in London for some motorcycles. I asked my men to steal four pikes with petrol engines. I'm guessing my men were drunk. There's a still inside the factory that makes tram line gin...They picked up the wrong fucking crate."

"What was in the crate?"

Tommy half sighed. "The boys delivered it to Charlie's yard as agreed. They must've taken it from the proofing bay instead of the export bay. Inside the crate we found twenty five Lewis machine guns with ten thousand rounds of ammunition. Fifty semi automatic rifles, two hundred pistols with shells..."

Polly crossed herself.

Tommy continued. "All bound for Libya. Sitting right there in Charlie Strong's yard."

"Jesus, Tommy. Tell me you threw them in the cut."

"Well, we put them in the stables out of the rain. The guns hadn't been greased yet."

Polly began punching Tommy in the arm, hoping to leave a couple of bruises. "That's why they sent the copper from Belfast,"

"Maybe. Maybe not." Tommy shrugged.

"Tommy Shelby, you are a bookmaker, a robber, a fighter, but you are not a fool...you sell those guns to anyone who has use for them, you will hang. Hang under your real name. Dump them somewhere the police can find them. When they know they haven't fallen into the wrong hands, perhaps this will blow over."

"I understand,"

"Tell Charlie to dump them, tonight,"

Tommy rose to his feet. "He won't move contraband around under a full moon. Three days until it wanes."

"And then you'll do the right thing...you have your mother's common sense and your father's devilment. I see them fighting. Let your mother win."

***

When Tommy returned home he went straight for his bedroom. For a moment, he contemplated leaving his clothes on just from exhaustion, but he determined that it would have ultimately caused more work.

He took off his hat, looking in his small wall mirror. He looked worse than he felt, proving he was even rougher around the edges than before. A bit boyish, still, but life had taken away the youthful glow.

He had been pretty once.

It had been almost twenty years since he had dressed the way his family would have preferred. There was no going back. There had even been new records created.

He was Thomas Shelby.

No one was going to change that. 

He slowly removed his clothes until all that was left was the sturdy layers of bandages that he used to bind his chest. He began to unwrap them, careful not to cause anymore pain than he was already experiencing, before dropping them on the floor in a pile.

He looked down at his breasts, massaging them to ease some of the discomfort. Even when they were not bound properly, it didn't bother him. He had not been blessed with the ample bosom that was common in the Shelby family, making them fairly easy to conceal if needed. And, he had done a grand job of doing so, year after year. 

His breasts did not make him feel like any less of a man.

However, there was another part of himself that he was unable to change. The one thing that always made him feel week and feminine, no matter how he dressed. Rightfully so. And, the dull pain he had been feeling at the pub was just what he had thought.

He sat down on the edge of the bed, head in his hands. Everything that had gone on with Freddie left him with the flashbacks, remembering very clearly when the two of them had gotten much closer than anticipated. 

He had been late twice, almost a week the second time. He had already been in fear of his life crashing down around him, everything he built.

"Damn,"

He laid back. He ran his hands over his lower abdomen, hoping the warmth and contact would help with the pain. He needed sleep.

***

The pub was packed, again. Men were everywhere, loud and obnoxious. It was barely noon on a Saturday, but Harry was used to it. He knew what was happening. The new barmaid, Grace, was not.

The beautiful blonde could not believe the amount of commotion. And, that was with her claimed past experience. 

"Is it always this busy on a day time?"

"No. These boys are all headed to St. Andrews?" Harry explained simply.

"To pray?" She inquired.

The man laughed. "That'll be the day. St. Andrews is a football ground. The Blues are playing. The forward line and the goalie are near the door over there, believe it or not."

There was a tapping noise on one of the private snug bar's windows. Grace hurried to open it, immediately met with Tommy's incomparable blue eyed stare. Her lips parted to speak, but she was completely lost in his cold gaze.

"I need a bottle of rum," He finally said when she could not.

"Grace? Whatever it is, it's on the house," Harry called out, catching sight of Thomas out of the corner of his eye.

"A whole bottle? White or dark?" Grace stammered as Tommy laid money on the bar. 

"I don't care," Tommy told her, watching her every move intently as he became impatient.

"Harry said on the house," She said, placing a bottle of dark rum in front of Tommy.

"Are you a whore?" He asked.

Grace was so shocked by his words that she couldn't think of a proper, verbal response to the question.

"because, if you're not, you're in the wrong place," Tommy said, grabbing the bottle and walking away, leaving Grace with a head full of questions.

"He's one of the ones you told me about,"

"Grace, you're a friendly girl, but be careful. If I say 'on the house' say nothing to whoever you're serving. If they decide they want you there's nothing anybody could do about it." Harry paused, taking a swig of his drink. "Lucky for you, since he got back from France, Tommy doesn't want anybody at all."

***

Arthur had come home beaten and bruised. He desperately needed to be cleaned up and taken care of before things got any worse. 

The Chief Inspector had done this to him. 

"I'm a trained nurse," Ada announced, managing to push everyone out of the way to tend to her oldest brother.

"Don't make me laugh, it hurts my face," Arthur grimaced in pain after giving in to a chuckle.

"I bloody am,"

"You went to one first aid class in the church hall and got thrown out for giggling," John reminded her.

"Not before learning how to stop somebody from choking," 

"I'm not choking," Arthur groaned.

"You will be when I wrap this cloth around your neck,"

Tommy entered the room, rum in hand. He soaked a cloth in the dark liquid, applying it to Arthur's worse wounds, repeating the process despite the obvious pain it was causing.

Arthur grabbed the bottle and took a swig of the rum, not caring about the fact that it burned his mouth. "He said Mr. Churchill sent him to Birmingham. National Interest, he said. He said there'd been a robbery. He said he wants us to help him."

John scrunched up his nose. "We don't help coppers,"

"He knew all about our war records. He said we're patriots, like him. He said he wants us to be his eyes and ears. I told him we'd have a family meeting and vote. And, why not? We have no truck with communists or Fenians."

Tommy remained silent. He didn't want to expose what had happened when it was only going to cause more of a fight. He was already battling his internal organs, he did not need a battle with his family.

"What the fuck is wrong with you? Polly, what is wrong with him lately?" Arthur asked.

"If I knew, I'd buy the cure from Compton's Chemists." Polly replied sharply.

Tommy backed away, grabbing his coat. "Arthur, you're broken up pretty bad,"

"Tommy!" Polly called after him as he left, with no luck. He was already gone, disappearing in the way that he always did. 


	4. Caught Between A Thing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Decided to reinsert a scene that I previously deleted, because there is a lack of development with this relationship...changing the scene from the original though.

Tommy walked down the steps of the dim lit canal. He lit a cigarette, walking even further into the darkness. Moonlight reflected up off of the canal, almost peacefully. 

A figure approached from the side, barely illuminated by the moon. 

It was Freddie. 

He walked up to Tommy, wrapping his arms around him and kissing him on the forehead. Tommy offered him his cigarette. He grabbed it and took a drag.

"How can you do that, just like you do to my sister?" Tommy licked his lips. "Or, did you think I didn't know about that?"

"Because you will never be able to make an honest man out of me, and she might do just that. She had tickets for the Penny Crush tonight, but I turned her down. Claimed that I wasn't in the mood. Do you know why that is?" Freddie asked, taking another drag of the cigarette.

"Yes, you still have feelings for me, despite every time that we try to pull apart from each other."

"Well, perhaps, we could have one last night together,"

Tommy looked around. "I'm not doing it here,"

"Then let's just walk a bit,"

Tommy sighed, following Freddie a few feet down the bridge. 

"Believe me, Freddie, if you were not a communist, or a man, or, perhaps, if I was a woman, I would stand by your side proudly, despite our differences,"

"No, I'm too scared of your family,"

"But I'm in control of my family,"

"See, it is talk like that that gets you covered in mud while I fuck into you senseless,"

"I told them that the copper was after the likes of you,"

Freddie raised his eyebrows. "Oh, Tommy, you are doing a fine job of pushing Ada into my arms. She's looking for a man who can stand toe to toe with the rest of the Shelby family."

"Perhaps, that is what I want,"

Freddie pushed Tommy against the side of the bridge, holding a hand tightly around his throat. "I happen to think this is what you want," He said softly before kissing him with intense passion.

***

Jimmy, the street preacher, walked along the streets near the Garrison. He stopped every few steps, picking up cigarette butts and tossing them in a sack.

He heard the sound of footsteps approaching. A figure coming closer. He glanced up, seeing the figure was none other than Tommy Shelby.

"Hey Jimmy," Tommy's voice echoed slightly from the alleyway he had ducked into, expecting Jimmy to follow. "What do you see?"

"I see a lot of coppers in shiny coats,"

"Who do you see talking to them?"

"The silver back coppers don't take to anybody. They're looking for something."

"Do they say what?"

"The ranks don't know. They've just been told to search cellars and out houses. What's happening, Tommy?" Jimmy asked after Tommy handed him a ten schilling note.

"Just keep your eyes open and and your mouth shut,"

Jimmy saluted Tommy. "Yes sir, Sergeant Major,"

***

Tommy was back at Charlie's yard that night. It was getting late. Charlie and Curly were loading crates onto a coal barge, clearly in a hurry.

Charlie stopped the moment he noticed the blue eyed devil coming near, joining him by the fire. "They are aboard. There's no moon. We can take them out to the turning point beyond Gas Street and leave them on the bank. They'll be found by the railways first thing. Is that the agreement?"

Tommy whispered. "I've changed my mind,"

"You what?"

"I have an alternative strategy," He replied, taking a set of iron keys out of his pocket. "Tell Curly to take her out to the old tobacco wharf. There's a lock up mooring we used to keep cigarettes. He knows it. When the boat leaves your yard its no longer your concern."

"Have you lost your fucking mind?"

"Have you not seen the streets? They've sent an army to find these things..."

Tommy remained calm. "That's right. They've shown their hand."

"Their hand?"

"If they want them back this bad, they'll have to pay. That's the way of the world. Fortune drops something valuable in your lap, you don't just dump it on the bank of the cut."

"You're blood, Tommy, I've always looked out for you like a dad, even when you insisted that this was who you are. You're going to bring holy hell down on your head. This copper takes no prisoners..."

Tommy smiled, taking a drag of his recently lit cigarette. "I'm told he didn't serve. Reserved occupation."

"Is that what you're looking for, Tommy, another war? You barely made it out of the last one."

"The tobacco wharf. By order of the Peaky Blinders."

***

"See you in no man's land, boys,"

***

It was bound to happen. It had to happen. In the midst of one of Tommy's more emotional weeks, he finally took Danny Whizzbang to the canal. Freddie had been right, one day he would have to put a bullet in their old friend. But, this was a bit different.

He escorted him down to the tow path, no more than one hundred yards away from the Italian cafe owners who came to witness the event.

"Danny, as you know, the man that you killed was Italian. And those two men down there are his brothers. Now, if I let the Italians do this they'll cut off your manhood and let you drain. That's how those bastards do things." Tommy paused. "So, to stop a war breaking out between us and the Italians, and to save you from their barbarity, I said I would dispatch you myself."

Tommy offered Danny a cigarette after he finished speaking.

"I died over there anyway, Tommy. I left my fucking brains in the mud."

"Yeah. You have last requests, comrade?"

"You'll look out for my Rosie and my boys. See they get apprenticeships. At the BSA factory or the Austen. They'll make foremen. I know they will. Just ordinary. Just ordinary men. And they won't get told to do that shit, that shit...that shit we got told to do." Danny said, taking in a deep breath. "I suppose I ought to pray now. Those fucking guns blew god right out of my head...say, is that boat for me?"

Tommy nodded. "We have to get your body out of the city. This new copper, you know..."

"Don't bury me anywhere there's mud, okay? Promise me. Bury me on a hill. And, tell Rosie where."

"You were a good man and a good soldier,"

"Yes, Sergeant Major,"

Danny lowered his head, anticipating the blow. Tommy raised his gun for the Italians to see, pressing it against Danny's temple. 

"In the bleak midwinter," Tommy whispered. 

He pulled the trigger, kicking the back of Danny's knees at the same time. A splash of blood sprayed his face. 

Danny fell face first onto the boat as it passed. 

When everything was done, Tommy wiped the blood spatter off of his face. He needed to get back to the betting shop, anyways.

 


	5. Breeding Dreams of Hatred

Tommy used the customer entrance to get into the shop. He grabbed a newspaper and sat down, lighting a cigarette. He was looking forward to seeing the racing results. 

Arthur burst into the room a moment later, a newspaper in his hand, as well. His anger was emanating from him, red face complimented by his still healing wounds from the other night.

He slapped the paper, rage continuing to flow. "It bloody won!"

Tommy didn't look up. "Yeah. It won. And word will spread. So next time we do the powder trick it won't just be the Garrison that'll bet on the horse, it'll be the whole of Small Heath. And you know what? The horse will win again. And the third time we do it we'll have the whole of Birmingham betting on it. A thousand quid bet on the magic horse. And that time, when we are ready, the horse will lose. Have a drink and think about it, Arthur."

Tommy stood up, leaving through the curtains into the main house, leaving Arthur to contemplate the bottle that was still sitting on the desk.

***

In the kitchen Polly was polishing brass pots. She stiffened when she heard Tommy enter.

He sat two bags of coins on the table. Of course, she was quick to grab them.

"Hmm...a bad week?" She asked.

Tommy sat down, removing his hat and rubbing his weary eyes. He didn't speak, so Polly began counting the money.

"There was no moon last night. I looked. Did you do the right thing?"

Tommy lit another cigarette, losing track of the amount that he had smoked during the day. "Yes. I did the right thing."

Polly stopped counting them. She stared at him, wondering. "I always know when you are lying to me, remember that. I knew when you last saw Freddie Thorne. I knew why you were worried about being late..." She noticed his expression change with the weight of her words, causing her to raise her eyebrows. "...are you late, again? Could've sworn that you had been a bit moody lately."

"I'm not late, right on time, actually. I believe it will be over soon." He sighed. "I hope,"

"Why? So you can run back and let the communist lick your pussy again?"

Tommy didn't respond, not wanting to satisfy the horrendous question with an actual response.

"Not exactly something a man could do with another man, right Thomasin?"

"Why are we even having this discussion? What I do is my business and my business alone."

"Hardly. Between that and the guns, everything you are doing puts you at risk. You put yourself at risk and the family is now at risk, the business and all."

Tommy shook his head, standing up to leave the room. He didn't have time to deal with her on top of everything else that was happening around him.

Despite all of the warnings left in his head, telling him to stop and return to his room, he had a sudden urge to visit Freddie.

Polly opened her mouth to speak, but she knew he wasn't going to listen.

***

"What are you doing here? What if Ada was here, eh? Then what?" Freddie asked when he opened the door.

Tommy shrugged. "She'd probably just think I found out you were seeing each other in secret,"

"Hmm,"

"Is she here?"

"Nope, you just missed her,"

"Good," Tommy said with a smirk on his face, one that only seemed to make his sharp cheekbones more prominent. "Get on your back and get undressed,"

"Getting a little demanding?"

Tommy nodded. He shoved Freddie forward, causing him to stumble slightly. He hadn't been expecting it.

Tommy kicked the door shut, not bothering to lock it and not finding the time to really care. He continued to shove Freddie lightly, until he was exactly where he wanted him.

"What happened to not doing this anymore?" Freddie asked, breathing heavily.

Tommy crawled on top of him, kissing him hard. "Forget about that right now,"

Freddie was having a hard time dealing with all of this. He was constantly being pulled back and forth. He had every intention of being faithful and trustworthy, loyal to only Ada. Yet, every time he got close to doing that, Tommy messed it up on a whole new level. Because, despite all that could be offered to him by the lovely Ada Shelby, it had always been Tommy Shelby who truly caught his eye, no matter how he wore his hair or chose to dress.

"You are going to be the death of me," Freddie sighed, his body giving in to Tommy's demands long before his mind.

Tommy rocked back, sitting up straight as he began to unbutton his vest. "Well, Freddie, at least you will die a happy man,"

Freddie bit his lip. He watched the enticing act. There could have been one thousand different things going on in his head prior, but Tommy knew just how to stop every last one of them.

He grew anxious, the anticipating building to a height he was not at all prepared for.

Suddenly, Tommy was on his back, Freddie was directly on top of him, kissing every exposed bit of skin available. The sensation was arousing, and Tommy knew he would be soaking wet by the time things escalated.

Freddie moved lower. He undid the button on Tommy's pants, slowly working them down his hips and around his ankles. He repeated the process with his underwear, exposing Tommy's entire body, except for where the bandages were tightly wrapped around his chest.

"I believe you may be the loveliest man in all of England," Freddie whispered, pressing soft kisses into the other man's thighs. "Your skin, your eyes, your voice, beautiful,"

Tommy leaned up on his elbows. "You know that I hate that word, I always have,"

"Fine then. Handsome." The communist spit out before spreading Tommy's legs further apart.

Tommy let his head fall back as Freddie went to work. He closed his eyes and relaxed while his body absorbed every sensation to the fullest. Every time that Freddie's talented tongue would lap against him, he felt shivers up and down his spine. And, that was not nearly as incredibly as when he actually sucked directly on his clit, causing him to fall flat against the mattress, hips twisting and bucking in tune with each motion.

Freddie lifted his head up with a wicked smile on his face. "Has anyone ever told you that you taste way better than a woman?"

"If that is the case, then why did you stop?"

"Because I wanted to give you a taste," He chuckled, pulling himself upwards and catching Tommy by the mouth.

This was just what they both needed.

There was a knock at the door no less than a minute later.

"Freddie! It's Ada! I think I forgot something." The young woman shouted from the other side of the door.

Tommy and Freddie both audibly gulped. 


	6. As Long As I've Got

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just want to thank those who have left kudos and those who have bookmarked this weird thing that has only managed to take over more and more of my brain...

"What are we going to do?" Tommy whispered, eyes just a bit wider that usual. "The door is not locked. Where can I hide?"

Freddie took a deep breath. "Grab your pants and go under the bed,"

"You're serious?" 

"Do I look like I'm joking?" 

"What if she decides that she is going to look for whatever it is underneath the bed?" 

Ada knocked again. They were only barely avoiding a new hell because she had not tried twisting the door handle. 

"We will deal with that if and when it happens, I'll think of something, Tommy,"

"You better," He said before attempting to slide beneath the small bed, suddenly very aware that he had not bothered to grab his hat, which Ada was sure to recognize.

Freddie finally opened the door to a confused Ada as she was about to knock for a third time. 

"What took you so long?" She asked, pushing right past him to get into the room. Aggressiveness was a shared Shelby family trait. 

"I was trying to find some clothes," Freddie lied, nervously, perhaps noticeable enough for her to hear, although she didn't mention it.

"You still hadn't put on any clothes?"

"Nope,"

Ada laughed, turning toward the bed. The click of her heels approaching made Tommy hold his breath. Not only was he sleeping with his little sister's lover, but he was also going against what he had told his family in the first place by sleeping with a man. There was no way that they would be able to understand that he was still attracted to a few men, even as a man, without them assuming that meant he was no man at all. The only good news was that he had plenty of time to think of a logical reason as to why he was under that particular bed while she walked around it.

"There it is," She announced, picking up an earring.

"Ah, would've never noticed," Freddie laughed, running his fingers through his dark brown hair. "Need anything else before you return to your palace?"

Tommy had to grit his teeth to contain his groan at the communist's words towards his sister. 

"Just a kiss before I go," She replied sweetly. 

Tommy was sure that was what happened, but he didn't want to dwell on it long enough. Though, he did find himself wondering if there were any differences in the way that it was done.

A few minutes later the door was opened again, and shut, this time locked for safety. 

"Tommy, would you like to pick up where we left off?" Freddie asked.

"That depends, will you be thinking about me or Ada?"

"I think about you when I'm with Ada, almost always you, no matter how hard I try,"

Tommy bit his bottom lip, not expecting to find that arousing. "Then do your worst,"

Freddie smiled, eyes trailing up and down Tommy's body with wicked intent. "C'mere, then, I'll show you my absolute worst,"

***

Tommy sneaked back into the house in the middle of the night. The streets were mostly quiet, and he was able to slip inside unseen. And, no one seemed to be awake, so there was not anyone to confront him on his whereabouts. His family probably had assumed he was already in his room. 

He walked through the pitch black parlor, using muscle memory to navigate around furniture. 

"I know where you were," A voice, Polly's voice, whispered into the darkness.

He stopped. "Are you planning on doing something about it?"

"Of course not, but you need to be careful,"

Tommy chuckled. "Don't you worry, Aunt Pol, I swallow so I don't have to be,"

"Please, Tommy, do not make me regret keeping this secret for you,"

"Goodnight, Pol,"

***

"I thought we was going to the fair?" Arthur inquired when Tommy stopped the car near the water.

The Lees were down by the shore, standing around a big, beautiful white horse. 

It didn't take a genius to figure out that Tommy intended on leaving with that horse.

"I've got business to attend to first," Tommy mumbled. "Johnny Dogs runs with the Lees now,"

A man approached, patting Tommy on the shoulder. "When's the last time you've been to a fair, before France, eh?"

"What would you know about France, Johnny, you gypsy bastard?"

"I know enough. That's a nice care you've got there."

"And that's a nice horse,"

Arthur's eyes enlarged. "You're tradin' the family car for a bloody horse!"

Tommy shook his head. "No, Johnny and I are playing two up. I've got heads."

Johnny Dogs pulled out two coins from his pocket, tossing them both up into the air. They each hit the ground only a few inches apart.

"Oh, you've done it now, Tommy," Arthur grumbled, glaring at the men with their heads towards the ground, face getting redder by the second.

"I won," Tommy said blankly. "I did say if I won I would let Johnny here have a spin in the car,"

The rest of the Lee clan mentioned the name Shelby as they talked among themselves. Tommy's ears perked up to the noise almost instantly. They had picked the wrong day to say such a thing.

"...yeah, but his mother was a diddicoy whore..."

Tommy's eyes narrowed. He whipped his hat off of his head, his brother's doing the same. They moved forward, cutting the Lee men with their razor blades.


	7. I'm Your Best Worst Nightmare

When the family returned home, Polly was waiting. She had something to say. She told them about the special officers ransacking the homes of everyone in Small Heath. The coppers had been playing it off as if the Peaky Blinders were somehow involved, helping them up close and from afar.

"We were at the fair,"

"Doesn't matter, you're still gonna have to step up, get out there and show them who the real cock of the walk is." Polly explained.

"We'll take care of it, but I really need to get the horse to Charlie's, stable it," Tommy told her.

The others got up from the table. Under Arthur's lead they were going to remind the city who was really in charge.

"Tommy, Chief Inspector Campbell knows that Arthur isn't the boss," Polly whispered. "He wants to meet with you."

"When they were knocking down everyone's doors did they get Ada? Where was she when this happened?"

"She was sleeping,"

"Yeah, but where,"

"I thought you didn't care for women's business,"

"I care about this," He said, standing up and leaving to join the others. He avoided mentioning the fact that it was because of Freddie.

***

All over town, the Peaky Blinders were grabbing portraits of the king. Every house, every place of business, was raided for every last one.

The portraits that had been gathered were thrown into the middle of the street, where they were set on fire. More and more were added to the pile causing the flames to grow. Peaky and regular citizen alike moved around the fire. They all just wanted to watch them burn. 

A reporter was brought through the masses that had crowded around, he was heading straight for Tommy.

"I hope you know what you're doing," Arthur shouted at his younger brother.

"I always do,"

The reporter finally reached Tommy. "I was told that I would have protection,"

Tommy turned toward the man. "You are indeed protected,"

"What exactly is going on here?" The reporter asked, gesturing towards the bon fire of royal portraits. "Why the king?"

"We have taken down the portraits of the king so that he cannot look down upon us and see all that is happening around here. We are being attacked, our belongings broken and our business destroyed. Our women...these coppers have no respect for any of us. Most of us here fought in France. I myself am no ordinary man."

"Is that all?"

"Yes, and I want it written just like that, in the morning papers for everyone to read,"

The reporter nodded, seemingly in agreement with the gangster. He did know what kind of person Tommy really was. And, he knew that if he didn't do as he was told, his protection would no longer exist. 

***

Tommy finally brought the white horse to Charlie's yard the next day.

Charlie walked up to him, a look in his eyes that was equal parts concerned and pissed. "Why'd you go on and pick a fight with the damn Lees?" He asked, setting a bullet on the table next to them. "This...this is a declaration of war."

Tommy took the bullet. The side had his name etched into it. "I will deal with it, I can handle the Lees,"

"You've been looking for a war since you came home from France. First, the stolen guns, and now this? Is this what you wanted?"

Tommy didn't respond. He couldn't. He just mounted the horse, riding away.

"Right, it is just the great Thomas Shelby against the world." Charlie muttered under his breath.

***

Thomas took the horse back into town. He needed to clear his head. And, he needed to find Freddie. 

There was a loud noise, sparks and fire. A horrid industrial blast spooked the horse, almost throwing Tommy clean off. He whispered in its ear, trying to calm it down with very little luck. he slid off the horse, attempting the same as before, needing the horse to settle.

All of the passersby watched on, wondering what was going to happen next.

"Sh...sh...it is just noise. Just noise. In France we used to say it...it is just the band drumming up...the trombones...the drums...trumpets...just noise. You'll get used to it."

The horse had mostly calmed, and Tommy lead it forward. He continued until a bucket of dirty water was tossed out a doorway, almost hitting him directly.

"Oh, Mr. Shelby, I'm so sorry," Grace said, stepping out onto the street in front of him.

"It didn't get me, it is alright,"

"I've actually been meaning to talk to you. I wanted to ask you if I would be able to sing at the pub. I know that you said singing wasn't allowed, but I assure you it would be good for everyone at the pub. It only has to be one day. Saturdays, perhaps? I'm afraid to ask."

"But you did, you are not afraid,"

"I am...afraid..."

Tommy cleared his throat, promptly changing the subject, as if everything he did was completely calculated. "You sound like one of those rich girls I always see down at the races? Do you like horses?"

"Yes...I like horses,"

"Then you'll come to the races with me, buy yourself a dress, and make some extra money," He said, directly looking into her eyes. "You will need something for the event,"

Grace nodded. Obeying the orders that were given to her by Campbell to get close to Tommy Shelby, and obeying the orders that were given to her by Tommy Shelby to keep on his good side.

***

The doors of the betting shop burst open. Tommy walked past the tables, everyone placing their bets. 

All of the bets were on Monaghan Boy.

As he walked by, he was greeted by people placing bets and his kin alike. He did his best to sound sincere in return. 

Polly watched him from the main house. Their eyes met, he knew that she was upset about something. He could sense it all the way from the other end of the shop. It had always been that way, and just as easily the other way around.

"Pol wants to talk to you," John said, long after Tommy had determined that that was the case.

He walked into the house, face to face with his aunt. "Well, what is it, Pol?"

"Ada is pregnant, Tommy. Seven weeks, at least. She did not want to tell you. She is afraid of what you will do. She says that she is going to keep it, with or without the father." Polly told him, hand over her heart.

"Where is she?" He asked, nostrils flared. 

"I think she is at the pictures, why? What are you going to do?"

Tommy stormed out. He was determined to get to Ada as soon as possible. The need was stronger than the one that was trying to drive him back into Freddie's arms. He remained stoic, despite that he was certain his heart was breaking.

***

The movie theater Ada was in was dark, and there fortunately were not many patrons. Tommy easily spotted his sister towards the front, quickly joining her, sitting down in the nearest seat.

The expression on Ada's face said it all. She turned her body slightly toward him, just enough to lock eyes, one hand still in her popcorn. "Shit. Don't start, Tommy."

"What if all I want to say is that I know the baby is Freddie Thorne's?"

Her jaw dropped. She wasn't sure what had taken her more by surprise, his prior knowledge, or the fact that he had not already killed Freddie. 

"He isn't worth your time, Ada. You are better off doing the right thing. Get rid of it. You don't want to bring a child into this world without a husband. Does he even know, yet?"

"No, he actually left, but he'll come back. I know he will. He promised."

Tommy sighed. "Just take care of it, Ada. You will be thanking me when it is over. That much I know."

"I'm keeping it, Tommy, and there is nothing that you or any other member of the family can do about it. I love Freddie and he loves me."

Tommy furrowed his brow. In that moment he had wanted to be the terrible person. He wanted to tell her absolutely everything, including how he had been underneath the bed when she had gone looking for her earring. But, he didn't. 

He took a deep breath. There wasn't anything else for him to say that hadn't already been said. He didn't want start a fight. He stood up and walked out of the theater without another word.

***

"Tommy, are we fixing races?" Pol asked, confronting her nephew the moment that he walked through the door, morning sun beating in.

He smirked. He knew that meant she had picked up on the fact that their horse had lost after all of Birmingham had seemed to bet on him.

"Do you have permission to be fixing races? Or are you trying to start another war for the Peaky Blinders to fight?"

"It does not matter, Pol, because I am handling it,"

"Hmm, I suppose that you expect me to believe all of this after everything that has happened around here lately?" She took a deep breath, holding out a folded note. "Here. Ada wants you to deliver this to Freddie. A way to bring a truce since she is under the impression, like the rest of the family, that you and Freddie do not get along. It is about the baby. She doesn't know about the two of you, but I do. So, I know you will be able to get it to him. When you do, no matter what you are feeling, you need to end whatever it is that is going on between you."

Tommy crossed his arms. "Ada doesn't need to have Freddie in her life. Freddie doesn't love her, he doesn't see a future in her. When he looks at Ada, he sees guns, ammunition, a way to achieve his damn revolution."

"And what about when he is with you?"

"I...I don't know. Maybe it is the same. I will not give him this letter from Ada. He doesn't deserve it. He cannot even be loyal to her. I'll tell Ada that he has left the country. It is for the best."

Polly relaxed, no longer on the verge of screaming at Tommy. She was beginning to believe what he was saying. It was all making sense. They just had to find a way to make sure that Ada understood. 


	8. I'll Never Miss This

The tea room that Tommy arrived at was bright and floral. It smelled frustratingly sweet. He wasn't used to this kind of thing.

Campbell turned toward Tommy. "I am sorry if this is not to your taste, Mr. Shelby, but I wanted us to meet somewhere that was outside of both of our jurisdictions,"

"I see,"

"I think you know why I have asked to meet you here,"

"Maybe you should explain it to me fully, make me truly understand,"

"Yes, understanding, I would like for us to come to an understanding. For instance, I know about your sister and Freddie Thorne. We found a prescription for iron supplements in his room belonging to her. Which makes me wonder, are you also in bed with the commies?"

For a moment, Tommy wondered if the Chief Inspector knew more about that then he was letting on. The exposure of his strange relationship with Freddie could have easily lead to more problems then the family could afford.

"I'm not. What my sister does with them is hardly representative of the entire family. I think I might be able to help you find something that you've been looking for, and I'll even give you Freddie Thorne, in exchange for you keeping your specials out of Small Heath."

"I do not know what you are speaking of," Campbell replied.

"I know that you are here looking for the guns. Well, I have them." Tommy smiled. "And I will give them to you, so long as I do not get arrested. If that happens, well, the guns will be sold to the IRA. Do we have a deal?"

"We have a deal," The C.I said, holding out his hand.

Thomas shook his head. "I wouldn't want to shake hands with someone who didn't fight for his country,"

***

That night Tommy couldn't sleep. The stress ate at him from the inside, the moment he hit the pillow, and it kept him from concentrating on much else.

He smoked from his opium pipe, hoping that it would ease his mind, but all it did was remind him that he had been trying to stop.

The stress of the day only seemed to translate into nightmares. Images of killings, the horrors of the war that almost ended his life, the tunnels, Freddie keeping him safe. It all flooded every scope of his brain. It was too much to handle for any single human being.

He woke up in a sweat, breathing heavily. He ran his fingers through his hair, closing his eyes tightly. His other hand was brought up to his stomach. Something just wasn't right.

***

Curly was standing outside of the stable when Tommy arrived. The look on his face was complete distress, and it worried the leader of the Peaky Blinder's immediately.

"You have to see this...Tommy, you have to see this,"

Tommy followed Curly inside. The simple minded Curly went over to the white horse, trying to comfort it desperately.

Somehow, it had been injured.

"How did this happen?" Tommy asked.

"The Lees. They had a woman curse a seed, put it in the shoe. I found it earlier. This horse was cursed from the start, Tommy."

Tommy scuffed one of his shoes against the ground. This was always the hardest part. He pulled out his gun, cocking it.

Then the horse and its suffering was ended.

***

"We're closed," Grace told Tommy flatly.

He pushed past her, not allowing her to see his tear stained cheeks. At least not yet. "I don't care,"

"Then can I get you a drink?" Grace asked, seeing as she didn't have a choice.

"Whiskey," He said, same tone as before, taking a seat.

Grace poured him a glass, setting it on the table in front of him before turning away.

He grabbed her by the arm. "Sit. Please. Sit. I could use the company."

She did as he said. "Okay. Do you want to talk? Or would you prefer to sit in silence?"

"We could talk, probably the better option," Tommy said, taking a swig of the Irish Whiskey that she had given him.

"Alright. How is your beautiful horse? Have you named it yet?"

"The horse is dead. I shot it in the head today."

Grace raised her eyebrows. "Was it lame?"

"It just looked at me the wrong way. No one looks at Thomas Shelby the wrong way." He laughed lightly. "All of the time I spent in France, all of the men I watched die...I got used to that. I never got used to watching a horse die. They just die badly."

"I'm so sorry,"

He shook his head, getting himself another drink. "You still going to the races?"

"That was my intention,"

"Good. Are you going to be ready to meet the king?"

"As in King George?"

"No. Billy Kimber. He's the king of the races."

"Are you going to let me sing?" She smiled. "It really did wonders back at the pub in Dublin."

"Ah, see now that isn't true. I have people in Dublin. Had them ask around about you in that pub you said you worked at. They hadn't heard of you. See, what I think happened, is that you were a good girl, a rich girl, who got herself pregnant and needed a way out."

Grace gulped, unsure of what to say. She could have chosen to confirm or deny it, and it would not have changed what he thought. So, she changed the subject instead.

"I still believe that you should let me sing,"

Tommy nodded. "Alright then. I'll let you sing. Get up on the chair and sing me something."

Grace swiftly got up onto the chair. "A sad song or a happy song?"

"Sad,"

"I must warn you, my singing will break your heart,"

"What if it is already broken?"

Grace smiled and began to sing. And, it was beautiful. And, the sad song she had selected had been perfect. Tommy thought she was perfect.

***

In the private room at the Garrison all of the Shelby men, who were old enough, were gathered for a drink. They were playing cards, listening while the other patrons sang loudly along with the wonderful Grace.

"They sound horrible," Arthur mumbled.

"Like dying cats," John added in.

Tommy was unusually smiley, finding himself oddly at ease for once. "They're fine, just having a bit of fun,"

"And, what would you know about fun? Mr. All business?" John laughed, giving his older brother a wink.

"Yeah, Tommy, it is actually about time you found yourself a woman, had some real fun," Arthur said with a nudge.

The front doors of the pub burst open. Billy Kimber and his men came through the door, wild and angry.

"Unless your last name is fucking Shelby, get the hell out of this fucking pub!" Kimber shouted.

The patrons scattered quickly, leaving the place ghost town empty. He called for Tommy and his brothers to come out from whatever hole they were hiding in.

Just like that, they were sitting together, face to face.

"I have heard from a very reliable source that you Shelbys think that you can be fixing races. Well, let me tell you, I run the races and I do not give permission to heathens like you to influence them."

Tommy pulled the bullet from the Lees out of his pocket. He sat it on the table for everyone to see. "This is a bullet from the Lee family that is intended to be a message to me. The Lees have been going to fairs talking people up about how easy it is to target the races, they've been taking your money. Seems to me that we both have a common enemy."

Kimber sneered. "You can't actually believe that I would need your help with anything, my money is just fine, the Lees can do whatever they want to you,"

"But you do. And, what I propose is this: we go to the races and we protect your money from the Lees. Simple as that, and in exchange for our protection, we want legality. It makes perfect sense."

"I have my own protection,"

"Yet your bookies are giving the money to the Lees, taking a cut for themselves,"

"Perhaps, he is on to something," Kimber's accountant said, actually considering what Tommy was saying, instead of trying to be a complete asshole like his boss.

Billy turned his head toward his accountant, eyebrows raised in shock, perhaps with some underlying fear. The accountant only nodded, once again knowing more of the facts and being willing to listen. He could look past the fixed races.

"Fine, we will work out the exact details later. This better be worth it."

Tommy nodded. Leaving everyone to wonder exactly what was going on in his head.

Kimber and his men left the Garrison, leaving it eerily silent until Tommy stood up with a wide smile on his face. "Well boys, looks like we are all going to the races..."

Arthur laughed. "You picked a fight with the Lees on purpose, didn't ya? All part of your plan?"

Tommy shrugged. "Get yourself a good haircut, gonna need us all looking presentable for our first day as a legal betting shop,"

 


	9. Inaccurate

"Need whiskey, three glasses," Tommy commanded Grace when he walked through the pub doors.

"Scotch or Irish?"

"Irish,"

"Also, Tommy, I've decided that I cannot go to the races," Grace said as she grabbed a bottle.

"And, why is that?" 

"I need more money for a dress, especially if I am going to have to meet this king," She explained.

Tommy grabbed the glasses and bottle from her. "What's wrong with what I've given you?"

Grace straightened her shoulders and dared to look him directly in the eyes. "I need more money for a better dress. How much does your suit cost?"

"I don't pay for my suits," He chuckled, it had been a while since he was this amused.

Two men entered the pub, taking Tommy's attention away. He lead them both into the private booth.

"We've been hearin' things around here, rumors about stolen guns. Workers down at the BSA factory, they talk." One of the men said.

"Yeah, they said that the Peaky Blinders are the ones who have the guns, might you know why they are saying those things?" The other one added.

"That is the thing about rumors, boys, they are just rumors," Tommy shook his head. "The Peaky Blinders do not have the guns."

"I say your lying,"

"Okay. I am going to let you in on a secret that no one else knows. I've heard those rumors, but I haven't stopped them...because the rumor is giving the Peaky Blinders more power."

The two Irishmen didn't believe a word that was coming out of Tommy's mouth. Grace was listening on the other side of the door. She was intrigued by just how easily he was able to brush them off. 

The men began singing IRA songs. Louder and more ridiculous as Tommy attempted to get them out of the Garrison. That was the last thing he needed to be connected with at this time.

"What did my fellow countrymen want?" Grace asked when Tommy finally shut the door on them. "Are they actually IRA?"

"They are involved with rumors, their affiliation to the IRA is based on the fact that they like to sing the songs."

"That's all?"

"Yes, Grace, nothing more,"

The barmaid simply nodded and returned to her work behind the bar, which Tommy approached.

He pulled out a small bundle of money, pushing it toward her. "You are going to the races. I need you. Get yourself a nice dress. Something red."

"Why red?"

"To match with the king,"

***

Polly was pacing when Tommy arrived home. He began to wonder when the last time she wasn't stressed out was. Seemed as if she was always worrying about something lately.

"Tommy," She looked up at him. "Freddie and Ada got married. You wanted them to leave town, but that man is as stubborn as you, and you know how your sister is."

Tommy took a deep breath. "No. No. They can't stay. If she wants to follow him, that's fine, but Freddie Thorne needs to leave Birmingham. I promised the Inspector..."

"What did you promise the inspector?"

"That Freddie would no longer be of his concern. Pol, you need to help get them out of town."

Polly placed a hand on Tommy's arm. "You really care about him, don't you? Might even call it love? That's why you want him safe, why you haven't tried to visit him?"

"If the circumstances of this life were different, maybe I would be able to love Freddie, but I can't. Ada can."

"Perhaps, he will listen to you, face to face, or don't you think you should do that?"

"I'm not sure that is the best idea, Pol,"

***

Mr. Zhang's shop was hushed upon the entrance of the main Peaky Blinders. All eyes on them, with Tommy front and center.

With the race coming up, they were all going to need new suits.

John and Arthur went one way, while Tommy stayed towards the front. He thumbed through the suits that had been cleaned, ready to be picked up. One name stuck out in particular, a suit for Kimber, all the way in Birmingham's smallest, but most productive spot.

"I do prefer this one," He said out loud, preparing to take it right off the rack. It wasn't like he hadn't stolen dry cleaning before.

Billy Kimber arrived not even a moment later. Which was right on time for Thomas.

"Just what do you think you are doing?" He asked. 

"I wanted to make sure I was here at the same time that you were. I wanted to tell you that the Lees were going to be at the races. I'm sure you know who they'll be targeting. Which is why I am increasing the fee for our protection."

"The hell you are!"

"But I am and I'll need you to agree to my terms because, let's be honest, you cannot afford not to keep the Peaky Blinders around."

"Roberts!" Kimber shouted at his accountant. "Give him what he needs, I haven't the time for this."

Tommy just smiled. That sly, devilishly handsome smile that could make just about anyone do exactly as he said.

***

Arthur was in the church when Tommy found him. He sat down beside him, not even needing him to speak to get a read on what was wrong. It had been the same as before, the war leaving him a depressed wreck that couldn't think straight. It was practically radiating out of him.

Tommy placed a hand on his shoulder, signaling his presence in case his older brother was not already aware.

Arthur glanced over at him. Tommy quickly saw that he had been crying, eyes red and slightly swollen.

"I keep getting asked all of these questions I don't know the answer to. All day long. All I can say is 'I don't know!'. Did you know that Ada married Freddie Thorne? I don't know. Do you know where Ada's living these days? I don't know. Do you know who killed the Irishman? I don't know. Where are the stolen guns? I don't know. No one tells me these sorts of things. I can never answer anyone." Arthur droned, angry.

"I was going to tell you about the guns,"

"Were you, Tommy? Really?"

"Yes, Arthur. Everything is going to be alright. Remember in France when you said you wanted to own your own pub?"

"Yeah,"

"Well, I say we get that pub. It could be a legitimate business to pass money from the shop. Pubs are perfectly legal." Tommy explained.

Arthur's grim expression softened. "That is not a bad idea there, Tommy,"

***

A cop was watching Tommy, waiting for him to reach his vehicle. "Someone's slashed a tire, that car isn't going anywhere,"

"What?" Tommy looked at his car, walking around the entirety of the vehicle. 

"It really seems as though someone is angry with you and has slashed your tires, Mr. Shelby,"

"Yes, so it seems,"

"I would guess that worse things could happen, if Freddie Thorne is not turned over to the police. Could take your sister as an accomplice."

"Don't you dare touch Ada,"

The officer smirked. "Hold up your end of the deal,"

***

Footsteps approached him from the side. Tommy was kneeling by the canal, occasionally looking back, expecting, waiting.

He heard a gun cock, and just like that it was pressed against his head. 

Freddie.

"You fucking piece of shit! After all of this time!?" Freddie shouted.

Tommy stood slowly, pulling his own gun. "The only reason you are still alive is because I fucking love you. I don't want to, but I do. I always have. I wanted...need you to leave for your own safety."

"Why haven't you come to see me then? Why haven't you told me that you love me?"

"Because of Ada, because she is having your baby. That was the turning point. That was what I needed to ensure that we ended this."

"If only you had told me that you..." Freddie began, but he knew it was no use. They had already known how they felt about each other. It shouldn't have mattered if it was said out loud. "...never mind, Tommy."

"That's right. You have to worry about the bigger picture, even if I do not support it."

"The bigger picture? You mean like, the stolen guns?" 

Tommy gasped. He had very little of his composure left. The second biggest secret in his life was now common knowledge among the town. Everyone was just opening their mouths without even thinking. 

"You do not need to concern yourself with the guns," He said, glaring into Freddie's eyes. "Concern yourself with leaving Birmingham,"

"I'm not leaving,"


	10. I Would Want To Be Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short Chapter.

Aunt Pol was rocking Finn to sleep when Tommy finally came through the door. 

She immediately understood what was going on. "No, Tommy,"

He made eye contact with her, secretly wishing that he hadn't a moment later. "Freddie isn't leaving Birmingham. Despite my warnings. He absolutely refuses. If he doesn't leave the cops are going to go after Ada. Something has to be done, and at this point..." 

"You will figure it out. You always do."

Tommy almost sighed, but he didn't. He ran his hands over his face. This was so far from over.

***

Tommy tossed and turned in his sleep. His mind was tainted by the images of the war, intensifying as the night went on.

The tunnels, how they would forever haunt him. The darkness, the digging, then being found by the Germans. Even the moment that Freddie took the bullet that was intended for him was crystal clear as if it had happened only the day before. It was horrid. The most literal form of awful imaginable. It would always be a part of him, always. 

Danny arrived in his room, appearing first in his dream, taking part in the actions, before managing to wake him completely. It startled him back into the present, but all of the images from the hell they all shared were still fresh in his mind.

"This war, huh, Tommy?" Danny asked as Tommy slowly sat upwards still breathing heavily.

"Yeah, the war alright," Tommy half mumbled before grabbing his opium pipe.

"Opium. I remember when there was barely a day that went by where I didn't use that stuff. It is bad, what happened to us out there. 'Specially you, Tommy, if it wasn't for Freddie and your brothers, I don't think we'd be talkin' right now."

"I agree, Danny, you're definitely right about that." Tommy took a deep breath. "So, what brings you to my home?"

"I've got news. There was a member of the Irish Republican Army shot here in Birmingham. Everyone in the pubs in London, they are saying that it was the Peaky Blinders who ordered it to be done, Blinders did it. The IRA is not easy to deal with."

"The Peaky Blinders have nothing to do with that man being shot. I am not trying to wage a war with the IRA right now. This is a misunderstanding."

Danny shuffled his feet against the floor, carefully thinking about what he was going to say next, if he was going to say anything at all.

"Sometimes the dreams last all night, as if we are all back in France. It is those times that I wish it would end the most. 

***

Tommy woke up in the early hours of the morning. The gore of his dreams still fresh in the front of his mind as tears ran down his face.

He was nauseous and angry. Everything was all rushing to his head at once. 

Something needed to change.

***

"You know, Tommy, your sister Ada was here the other day," Grace told him when he sat down at the bar.

"Oh yeah?"

"A woman needs peace in her condition. Ada certainly doesn't seem to have peace."

"How would you know that?"

"Women talk, all the time. I think you should talk. It isn't good to keep all of your thoughts and feelings bottled up."

Tommy raised an eyebrow. "I will pick you up in the morning. I imagine that you have gotten the dress?"

Grace only nodded in response, realizing that she had no choice, but to give up. She was going to get nowhere with the man. He was back to being all business.

***

Curly had the car ready for Tommy in the morning. It was all fueled up for the trip to the races.

"Tommy, there certainly isn't a lot of room in just this car. You can only fit five Blinders in here, tops. You'll need more than that today..."

"I only need enough room for Grace and I. I'm not taking any of the others with me." Tommy told him, cutting him off before he could even finish his sentence. 

"That is all?"

"All I need,"

***

They arrived at the races with plenty of time to spare. Tommy lead Grace through the back, filling her head with a never ending supply of wild ideas.

She was becoming intrigued by him, beginning to allow it to cloud her judgement. She still had a job to do, yet he was taking her by storm.

"I need you to lie," He whispered.

"Lie?"

"I need you to lie and tell everyone that you are a Lady, I am your guard and I don't speak any English."

"Why do you want me to do that?" Grace asked, a little taken aback.

"Just go along with what i said. I promise it will work out to our advantage."

The pair moved towards the main room of the cabaret. Loud music filled the air, the entire room encapsulated by the wonderful sounds. People were everywhere, only the best of the best, dancing and drinking and having a good time. 

Tommy held his hand out for his beautiful companion in red. She accepted. The two danced, closely. The confidence could be felt in Tommy's steps. He could be himself, could hold this woman against him. She had no idea who he really was, she didn't know his past, she only accepted him for who he was right in front of her. He figured that was the way that it should be. He enjoyed every passing moment. 

They caught the eyes of Kimber and his accountant who were sitting at a table off to the side. Tommy moved closer to them, able to hear them talk.

"Doesn't he have big balls?" The accountant muttered.

"Doesn't she have a great body?" Kimber said, licking his lips. He ignored his accountant, focusing all of his energy on Grace, despite bringing a woman himself. 

Tommy smirked, still keeping his eyes on Grace. 

Arthur motioned from the side. He had the money. It was game on.


	11. You're A Mess, But It Is Better That Way

Tommy lead Grace over to the side of the dance floor. Of course, Arthur was waiting for them.

"Is this all of it?" Tommy asked of his older brother.

"I never fail to deliver," Arthur replied sharply, handing over all of the money in his possession. 

Tommy took the money, swiftly taking it and Grace back to where Kimber and his men were sitting. 

He dropped the money on the table before sitting beside those ridiculous Kimber men he didn't trust.

"It has been said before: it will save you money to have Peaky Blinders protection at the races. It would beneficial to remain in business with us. And, to make sure that we become a legitimate force in these races."

"It certainly does look that way now, doesn't it?" Kimber asked, hardly able to direct his attention to Tommy. Grace was the perfect distraction.

This was the plan. This was all part of the game that he was playing so well, that was created to catch Billy Kimber in his trap.

If all it really took was a red dress, he could have even shown up in one himself. Although, he never quite had the assets that Grace had. She was absolutely stunning.

Kimber held his hand out to her. "Care to dance?"

Grace turned her head toward Tommy, searching for any indication of what she should do next. He nodded. He wanted her to dance with the strange man.

In only a few minutes, the pair had returned to the table, much to the surprise of everyone else.

Kimber's eyes were on Tommy now. "You were saying?"

"I could have two guards for every single one of your bookies. On top of that, we will always be two steps ahead of the Lees. We will know when they will attack." Tommy explained.

Kimber leaned in close. "I'd like to try to take her home. I know it wouldn't be long before I had her. I'll even let you take mine, give her a try."

Tommy's haunting blue eyes flickered over to the brunette at Billy's side. She probably had no idea what she was getting herself into when she came today, not even the slightest indication that she would be essentially whored out. He almost felt bad for her.

In no more than five minutes. Billy was right at Grace's side again. He whispered things in her ear that made her eyes widen in shock. When she was finally able to break away she made a rush for Tommy, who was seemingly unaffected by the situation at hand. He was colder than he typically was towards her.

"Kimber offered up more money if he got to take you home with him," Tommy whispered.

"I am not a whore," Grace protested.

"Everyone is a whore, Grace, we just sell different parts of ourselves,"

***

While Tommy was on the way to Kimber's estate he sat in silence with the strange brunette woman that Kimber had brought with him. He hadn't made an effort to learn her name yet, but that was mostly because he could not find it in himself to actually care.

"You know, I was an independent woman once...used to be a milliner, before Billy."

"Is that so?" Tommy replied in a very level monotone.

"I am not a prostitute, I swear it. I do not know about your blonde girl, she could be."

Tommy ignored the woman. He parked the car and politely assisted her on to the ground. He still could not say what her name was, or remember anything about her. It certainly didn't help that she was horrifically boring.

There was the sound of a struggle coming from another room when they finally entered the main wing of the estate. Glass falling against the ground accompanied by a woman shouting.

He knew it was Grace.

He burst into the room, startling both her and Kimber. A few moments later and he was sure that Grace would have been taken advantage of by the vile man.

"Billy! Billy! I can't let you go through with this!" 

"And why the hell not!?"

"Because she is a whore. A whore from my neighborhood. She looks good on the outside, but she has syphilis. You don't want that."

Billy backed away from Grace. "You should have told me this before,"

"I know. I know that. I should have, but the money blinded me. I got her in time. I'll take her home, get her out of your sight."

"You better,"

Tommy nodded, grabbing Grace by the arm to lead her outside. They needed to move fast.

"What made you change your mind?" She asked.

Tommy licked his lips. "I am not entirely sure just yet,"

***

"Did you know that Ada and Freddie are back in Small Heath?"

"Unfortunately, it seems as though Freddie doesn't know how to listen. They needed to stay away."

***

The kitchen was unusually quiet, but Tommy was enjoying it. He sat back and lit a cigarette, trying to clear his head.

The silence was short lived. Pol came in with intent, placing a hand on Tommy's shoulder, effectively breaking his daze.

"There's going to be a meeting at the Garrison. John wants everyone there." She told him.

"And since when does John get to call Peaky Blinder meetings without my permission?"

"It isn't a Peaky Blinder meeting, it is a family meeting, and as the head of it you have to be there,"

Tommy pursed his lips. "Let's head out then,"

***

The Garrison was as lively as ever. Tommy brushed past the tens of daytime drinks to the private room where his brothers were waiting for him.

Most of the family was already drunk, as well.

Arthur cleared his throat after Tommy sat down. "Someone has been sneaking around the house, went through our things once already. Had to be the Lees."

John brushed off what his older brother said in order to begin speaking. "It has been quite some time since my wife died. The time since her death has been lonely for not only myself, but for my children as well. My kids, they need a mother. There needs to be someone to take care of them when I'm not around, if something happens to me. So, I've asked Lizzie Stark to marry me. She said yes."

Tommy shook his head. "Lizzie Stark is a whore. The only job she has ever had has been servicing the men of Birmingham while on her back. That is the woman you want to bring into this family? The woman you want to be the mother of your children?"

"She plans to get a real job. She is done with that life. She promised me. All I want is your blessing, Tommy."

"My blessing? On a marriage that no one would approve of?"

Finn burst into the room, almost completely out of breath. "We've been robbed! You have to come now!"

Every Shelby in the room rose to their feet. The Blinders followed suit. They had to get to the betting shop as soon as possible. There was no telling what they were in for.

***

"Holy shit! This place is a bloody mess!" Arthur shouted, scanning over the main part of the room.

They had had break ins before, but never this bad. Chairs were upturned, papers scattered, glasses broken.

"Arthur, was anything taken?" Tommy asked. He walked slowly through the shop, careful not to step on anything that looked out of place. 

"The money. Our money. All of it. All of it is gone."

Tommy was about to respond when something caught his eye. He leaned forward to pick up a pair of wire cutters off of the table. 

"Are those wire cutters?" Polly asked. 

Tommy nodded. "Yes. During the war, when a place was rigged with explosives we would leave behind wire cutters as a sort of joke."

"This place is booby trapped?" Arthur asked.

"Don't. Touch. Anything." Tommy whispered.

John took a soft step forward. "Tommy. Look, there is a bullet on the ground there, by your foot."

Tommy bent over to retrieve the bullet. It was THE bullet. The Lees were famous for this scare tactic. That bullet intended for Tommy had his name on it. 

He let out a deep breath. "This is just a message. There are no explosives in here. The Lee family was just trying to send me a message. This is an act of war."

"Just what you wanted," Pol muttered, rolling her eyes.

"More or less," Tommy chuckled. "Alright then. Let's not just stand here. Let's clean this damn place."

The words didn't have to leave his lips more than once. Everyone listened. Everyone worked together.

***

When Tommy walked out to the car he saw his youngest brother, Finn, sitting inside. He had his cap on as he pretended to drive.

Tommy found himself unable to stop smiling. "What are you doing?"

"Pretending to be you,"

Finn was his only sibling that had always seen him as a strong, male leader for as long as he could remember. He never called him by his birth name, and he certainly never referred to him as something that he definitely was not. It put Finn in a different category for him, messing with his softer side a bit.

Tommy snapped out of the daydream of time spent with his brother. He had a thought. He was certain that the car would be the first place the Lees would try to attack him. There was no doubt in his mind that the car was rigged, and that his poor little brother was trapped inside.

"Finn. Finn, you need to listen to me. Please do not move. Do not open the car door. I need to go get John and Arthur for help." Tommy pleaded. He tried not to show any emotion, the last thing he needed was for his brother to panic and possibly trigger whatever explosive might have been in there.

Finn didn't listen, or wait. He opened the door of the car, setting off the hand grenade.

Tommy gasped, fear sinking in. He quickly found the grenade, grabbing it and running for the building across from the garage. He threw the small object, just in the nick of time, ducking and covering his ears to protect himself from the blast. It wasn't anything he wasn't used to.

"Shit!" Someone shouted from down the street as the rubble fell to the ground.

No one was hurt, especially not Finn. That was what mattered.

Tommy ran back to the car. He pulled Finn around to the front of the car, finger wagging in his face. "Never, ever pretend to be me. This is what happens to guys like me. You just be Finn Shelby, not me."

Finn agreed.

***

The skies were surprisingly calm for the type of day it was. Tommy walked alongside Johnny Doggs, headed right into gypsy territory, Lee territory.

Eyes followed them both as they moved across the compound, a very particular wagon as their goal. 

Tommy was allowed into the wagon after Johnny whispered something in Romani into the guards ear. Sometimes the man was useful, sometimes. 

"A child almost died because you all seem to want me dead," Tommy raised his voice defensively before anyone was able to say a word, hand already wrapped around the bullet in his coat pocket.

"You have proof that it is us that wish to kill you?" The woman asked.

Tommy pulled out the bullet, sitting it on the table in between them. "This is my proof. All the proof that I need."

"If this is the case, why are you here, Mr. Shelby,"

"To propose a union. we have a common enemy, there is no doubt about it. We need to take down Billy Kimber. We are kin, after all."

"It has been a long time since we have considered ourselves kin with your family, you know this,"

"Perhaps, it is time that we changed that?"


	12. I Will Be The Greatest

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It always takes forever for me to update this, but I have my reasons. I am aiming at once a month, at the very least, or I am going to try. 
> 
> This just isn't as simple as the others.

"You need to allow Freddie and Ada to be safe," Tommy said sternly, into the darkness, not one hundred percent sure where Campbell was standing in reference to his location. "Stanley Chapman. I'll give him over in exchange for Freddie. He supplies money to the communist party."

"Why the change? Have you grown soft since our last meetin'?"

"It has nothing to do with me being soft. I look out for my family, no one else."

Campbell walked into the dim lighting of the alleyway, he wanted Tommy to be able to see him, to see the look on his face. "Fine. Freddie and Ada will be safe. For now. We need the guns, Mr. Shelby, Churchill is becoming more impatient. I can only promise Freddie and Ada's safety if you hold up your end of the agreement."

"That is..."

Campbell cut Tommy off. "I will kill your family if I do not get my hands on those guns. Your brother Arthur, John, your sister Ada, your Aunt, I'll kill you, too. Finn, however, he's still so young, I'll give him to the prisoners...you know what kind of things happen to young boys like him when they go to the prisons."

Tommy had had enough. He pulled his gun, pointed right at the Detective Inspector.

He didn't shoot. 

He couldn't.

He didn't know why. He wasn't afraid, but there was something stopping him from pulling the trigger. He almost felt small and weak. 

Campbell laughed. He considered stepping closer, deciding at the last possible moment not to press his luck against the head Peaky Blinder. 

This was it. This was the way it would be. They were at an impasse, likely to last much longer than either had planned.

***

The cemetery was quiet. The skies were grey overhead, darker in the distance, showing the pending doom of a storm towards the east. 

Freddie was kneeling down beside his mother's grave, placing flowers in front of the monument. He had never been the same since her death. He had missed her so very much.

He heard footsteps approaching and quickly stood to see who it was. He turned around, immediately face to face with Thomas Shelby. He tried to wipe the stray tear from his cheek before the other man had noticed, but in truth, it was too late to bother. 

"Tommy, what are you doing here?"

"I'm here because I need to warn you...the coppers are coming for Chapman. They'll come for you, as well, if they see you. But, you have one last chance to leave the city. I suggest that you take it. I can promise that you and Ada will be safe as you leave the city, but only if you leave."

"What did you do, Tommy?"

"I gave up Stanley Chapman's whereabouts in exchange for your safety,"

"You signed the death warrant of a good man. Why would you do that? You had been just fine letting them find me before, you practically gave that damn Detective Inspector the keys to my room. Almost as if I meant nothing to you."

Tommy scuffed his shoe against the cold ground. "You damn well know why,"

Freddie grabbed him by the arm. "You love me,"

"I take care of my family," Tommy said, voice unfeeling and cold like the weather. He yanked his arm back, unable to deal with the contact. "If you do anything that possibly hurts a single hair on Ada's head, I promise you that I will put you in a box."

Freddie didn't accept what he said. He yanked the smaller man's arm right back, pulling him into a tight embrace.

Tommy did not struggle free. For a moment, he forgot where they were and about the fact that Freddie was married to his pregnant sister. He brushed all of the negative things from his mind, focusing only on the man in front of him, holding him close, as he had before. He relaxed enough to rest his head on Freddie's shoulder, taking a second to breathe him in, a treasured last breath before reality sank back in. 

"We should not be doing this. You know that. You are married to Ada."

"But Tommy..." Freddie pleaded with his former lover, the man who had stood beside him through the worst points in his life.

"I love you, Freddie Thorne, but we can never be together and we never will. Understand that. Goodbye, Freddie. Take Ada from Small Heath, get out of Birmingham."

***

Tommy knocked on Billy Kimber's car window. He was in good spirits today. He had a reason to be. 

Today was going to be a good day. 

He lead Kimber into the betting shop. Everything had been cleaned up, immaculate at the very least. Everything was normal again. 

"I want your best men for the next race. I want an additional fifty for the beer tent." Kimber explained to Tommy, watching the corners of the pale man's mouth turn up ever so slightly.

Arthur grabbed the papers from Billy, unfolding them for everyone to see. Their license to legally accept the bids in their betting shop was in his hands.

"The Shelby Brothers are LEGAL!"

The entire room erupted into applause and shouts of congratulations. Tommy smiled, looking genuinely happy for once. This made all the difference.

***

"Grace! Grace!" Tommy called out to the beautiful blonde woman as she was leaving the pub.

"Yes, Tommy, what is it?"

"I believe that I am in need of your help."

"As far as I am concerned it is not just you who needs my assistance. Your brother might just need it as well."

"Fair enough,"

"Tommy, when I was helping Arthur with the counting...I noticed something, or rather, a lack of something. The booze, it is off the books. Where is it coming from? How are you getting it into the pub?"

Tommy was barely listening, focused more on crossing the threshold into the church they passed. He observed Grace as she walked inside.

He lead her to a pew where they both sat down, side by side, two sinners in the worst ways in the house of God.

"I need an accountant for that very reason. Someone to run the books, someone good with numbers. That's you."

"The chaotic books that your brother was attempting to make sense of?" 

"Yes,"

"I don't think that is something I should be doing,"

"And why not?"

"It is a lie,"

"Much like your claim of being Catholic. Catholic girls cross themselves when entering a church. You did not. Do you even believe in God?"

Grace nodded. "Of course,"

"A protestant then?"

"Is this a job interview or an interrogation?"

"That depends on if you accept the position or not," He took a deep breath. "It is my good fortune to have you here for the pub so I want nothing more than for you to expand on your current job."

"I do not belong,"

"Grace, this is a job offer. Most of the accounting will be illegal, but I know that you are capable." Tommy explained to her.

"I suppose that I will do it, for you,"

Tommy's blue eyes met Grace's. The feeling he had about her before was there. He could not deny that she was a beautiful woman. Of course, nothing could happen between then, they could never be together, but he could appreciate her beauty and admire her power. 

He kissed her, anyways, despite everything that was wrong with it. Knowing it was impossible to actually be with the woman. 

He pulled away, brushing some of her gorgeous curls behind her ear. "I'll show you around tomorrow,"

***

Tommy pulled the car over on the side of the street next to where Lizzie was walking. He had a curiosity with her, especially since John had proposed to her. 

He waved the familiar woman over to him. She got into the car without a word. Her usual smile was adorned across her face as she looked at him. It was the same smile that she had looked at him the moment she had discovered Tommy's birth name, long after the first time she learned the truth about his body.

"Do you like kids, Lizzie?"

"What?"

"Do you like children, because John as them, and if you marry him then you will become a mother to those children,"

"Tommy, you know...I think it will be just fine. I already knew about John's children."

"Remember when we used to spend time together? We might have pretended at first, but I was eventually your customer." Tommy whispered, laying money down in Lizzie's lap. "You know my true self, do you think for the right price. We might have a go, for old time's sake?"

He could tell that she was considering his offer. Even more so when he placed a hand on her thigh. He had known all along that she wasn't finished. 

"Let's head up to your room, make good use of your bed,"

Tommy picked up the money. He shook his head. "John should have known that it was too good to be true. Once a whore, always a whore."

Lizzie's mouth opened to speak, but no words came out. She wasn't sure if she was supposed to feel betrayed or insulted. 

She collected herself. "How dare you!? I love John!"

"Well, you sure have an interesting way of showing it,"

"Do you even know what love is? What it feels like to be in love? Have you ever even felt the hands of a MAN who truly cares about you? Yes, I said man because the truth is that you are just a woman dressed in men's clothing and you can pretend all you want, but that is all that you will ever be."

Tommy threw the money at the woman. "Get out of my car!"

**Author's Note:**

> So, this first part is super simple, but...it isn't going to stay that way.
> 
> Also, I was serious when I said it followed the first episode almost perfectly...almost...was watching and pausing the episode constantly to get things right...also glanced at the script when I couldn't remember something. Dialogue mostly.


End file.
